


Speed

by Clara_sauce_wald



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 13 drives a delorean, Action, Danger!13, Delorean, F/F, Flirting, HER STRAP IS HUUUGEE, Humor, Racing, back to the future (mentions), bad ass 13, daddy!thirteen, plz read me, racer!thirteen, ryan and yaz sibling love, she said fuck men, she's over 2000 years old of course she drives, soft thirteen who?, the doctor actually knows how to drive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-11-27 03:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18188918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_sauce_wald/pseuds/Clara_sauce_wald
Summary: Sure the Doctor is a disaster, but she is one hell of a racer. And my God does she look good in leather.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It always strikes me on how people think the Doctor can't drive. Like a 2000-year-old alien with a timebox, can't drive? I got inspired by this assumption (as well as a daydream of 13 wearing leather gloves and vintage leather motorcycle goggles) and thought to defy the odds. How about, instead of the Doctor being horrible at driving, it's a secret talent she always had for racing? Sure she may crash her tardis god knows where, but damn does she know how to make people eat her dust. I hope you all like it! Follow me on twitter: @roseapaldi

Tires burning rubber. Sparks are flying behind the Doctor’s head. Sweat builds upon her cheeks, as the tight leather from her goggles starts to turn her skin into the water. She lost her stick shift in the crash from behind, and they’re three-quarters of a mile close to the finish line. Concentration starts to pound her head like a hammer, she knows she can do this. But no matter how hard she pressed her foot on the gas, it just won’t seem to go as fast as her mind is at the moment.

She can hear Graham in her head cheering her on, Ryan screaming on the top of his lungs. She lost the feeling of Yaz’s lip imprint on her cheek ever since she hit the gas, but she feels Yaz in her heart and that is enough.

But her speed wasn’t enough. In fact, it was equal to his. The Doctor pushed her sweaty blonde locks away from her face, eyeing him through the corner of her eye. He’s not sweating, in fact, he is emotionless as if he already knows his fate. The Doctor turned to glare at him, he smiled back.

Ahead of them is a bridge and just past that: the finish line.

He’s going to crash into her and she knows it, but not if she crashes into him first.

“This is it, Doctor! This is where you end.” Dante screams over the roaring of their vehicles.

The Doctor smirks.

“Bring it then.”

 

* * *

 

Graham, Ryan, and Yaz would never guess that one day they would become baseball fans, and it’s all thanks to the Doctor.

“So, what do you think gang? A Cubs game in 3052 Chicago! Never thought of crossing that off the bucket list, eh?” She beamed back at her team as they navigated through the disappearing crowd full of red and blue. The LED lights beamed brightly as if it lit the whole city of Chicago.

“Now baseball but with two levels, that’s something that I would never guess to see!” Graham chuckled as he buried his mouth into a hot dog topped with mustard and ketchup.  
The team aimlessly chatted about the plays, talking about close calls and how they got into infinite pickles, as they passed blocks and alleyways, getting deeper into the city. They came across a bar, shining brightly in neon lights the bar entrance cast a shadow of the three men, who hung underneath the light, who watched them as they came upon their territory.

It must’ve been all four of them who felt the atmosphere change once they came upon the bar. The conversations of the broad gentleman ceased to a hush. They whispered upon their approach, even the Doctor noticing their snarls hidden in the shadows.

The team carried on, paying no mind to their presence.

Until they found them following behind their footsteps.

They continued their conversation until they heard a clear

“Dyspraxia boy.”

The group went quiet, breaths are at a hitch.

“What did you say?” Before any of them can turn around, the Doctor was face to face with the man, finally out of the shadow and into the limelight.

Dressed as if they were ordinary bikers, the three men had light blue skin and crystal eyes. Their heads had no hair, yet had a design running on the sides of their head in similar fashions that correlated the three men together.

“Can’t your mate walk, right? He’s like a walking blob.” One of them snarled.

Ryan’s cheeks went red and his knees felt weak beneath him. Memories of primary school began to replay in his head, the countless time he wasn’t chosen for football, the times he spent his back resting on a wall watching the other kids play without him.

He began feeling self-conscious about himself again as if all of those years building himself up until seem to crumble with just a few words. But he knew one thing: he wouldn’t succumb to fear, not again.

“I think you should worry about yourself first before you pick on someone else.” Yaz intervened, standing next to the Doctor.

“My mate is more of a man than the three of you combined, seeing that you’re low-level Mortori, who’s paying you? A bloke with a greasy mustache and has 50 krim split between you all?” The Doctor snickered, not flinching at the sudden grab of the front of her shirt and being pulled eye to eye to the middle man-whose breath reeked of whiskey.

“I wouldn’t say that name if I were you….” He grumbled. The Doctor glared right into his eyes, which glowed within the irises as they analyzed the Doctor.

“You _timelord._ ” He spat his words at her, the Doctor’s hands rolled into a fist. Without another thought the Doctor countered his arm, freeing herself and jabbed two fingers on the side of his ribs, causing him to fly back a good distance and crawl upon the ground, clutching his side.

The two other men quickly assumed to a fighting stance, ready to throw a punch at the Doctor.

“You _really_ don’t want to mess with me. My friends and I were just having a good time and please, for the sake of both of us, don’t ruin it tonight.” The Doctor sunk down to the level of the fallen man, not batting an eye at the two men.

Before the two men could advance, the bar door swung open, stepping out was a large man, larger than the three of them combine; with a cigar hanging from his lips and two gun holsters resting on either side of his vest.

“What is going on here?” He said calmly, glancing over to one of his thugs who still laid on the ground, rolling with pain.

“I think your men were trying to pick at one of mine.” The Doctor said with a huff. She licked the dryness off her lips and smoothed down her shirt.

“Were they now?” He turned to the Doctor, and like a bolt hitting metal, his eyes lit up.

“Don’t tell me that we have run into the Doctor now, have we?” He grinned and extended his hand to the Doctor. She shook it.

Yaz crossed her eyebrows, unsure if she is more confused about how this man knew the Doctor or was on high alert after the Doctor just pushed a man to the ground with one touch. Either way, she didn’t like this situation one bit.

“Well I’ll be damned, aren’t you a sight.” He grinned, checking out the new face that once belonged to the body of a lanky man with sandshoes.

“How’d ya guess it was me, Dante?” The Doctor said monotoned.

“Aw, you’re eyes. They’re not one to forget.” the large man grinned out of the side of his lips.

“All this flirting is flattering really but, backtracking- your boys seem to be feisty tonight, so much so that they’re picking on my mates.” The Doctor nodded back slightly, introducing the scared-shitless Graham, the shivering Ryan, and Yaz- who is on high alert with a pumped chest and sharp eyes.

“Care to give us an explanation?”

“Well, first you need to elaborate on the situation Doctor.” He raised his eyebrow.

She huffed. Nope, the Doctor wasn’t going to give in just easy. Yep, she’s still persistent.

“We were just passing when one of your men made a comment about Ryan.” She nodded to the man on the floor, and back at Ryan who shyly raised his hand, unsure where the Doctor is heading with this.

“Did he now?”

“Check your memory, since you are a Mortori. Or if you have any memory left.”

Dante turned his head, leveling his face right above the Doctors. His pupils rolled back, as he worked a process within his head. His pupils came back-sharp.

“Well Doctor, you were right about that. But you are also wrong.”

The Doctor scoffed, her nose coming into a scrunch.

“Wrong? Me? Never. Well, on occasion but let me tell you, I’m way more dangerous when I’m wrong.” Her voice got low, perhaps only for both of them to hear.

Dante scoffed.

Then he started to chuckle.

And he finished on a laugh.

He took a drag of his Galazork cigar.

“I like your attitude, Doc.” and puffed yellow smoke onto her face.

Not once did the Doctor’s eyes waver.

“You know these are my streets. You and I go way back. Back to Mamma C’s dinner table, well that was after I shot her on it.”

“And is that suppose to scare me?”

“No, but you know my rules. Your boy crossed my path, bumped into my men, and I cannot let that disrespect abide. What kind of leader would I idol if I didn’t follow my own rules?”

The Doctor scowled, “so you’re expecting me to pay _you a fine_ on something your men committed? What happened to family etiquette Dante?”

“You see I normally let it slide, but since you haven’t paid me back a favor…” Dante extended his hand, palms up and waiting for the Doctor.

“Apologize to Ryan first.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You heard me, Doctor. No.”

“Recently I’ve been trying to act really nice, Dante-I really am. New body: new rules. And I will pay you whatever I owe, but for the sake of yourself and peace of mind for me, tell your men to apologize to mine and we’ll call it square.”

Dante paused for a minute, searching in the Doctor’s eyes if she really means to call it square, or searching for the confirmation that she was willing to go down this path.

“Doctor, I’ve seen your faces before. This one doesn’t scare me.”

“Doctor, it’s fine. It’s really fine-we can just go-”

“No Ryan we are staying right here until I get an apology and that is final.” The Doctor huffed, straightening her back further. There was an annoyance in her voice, and Dante was intrigued to explore it. 

Dante stayed quiet, not giving into the Doctor’s orders. He knows he has the higher ground all ready. He has one of the most powerful aliens on his block and she is his-unarmed, defenseless. The Doctor is in his lion cage now. She can’t outrun him, he is on every bock, every street.

But she can outrace him.

“Fine!” She groaned, threw her hands up and rolled her eyes to her mates.

“I, Doctor, challenge you to a Mortori classical race!”

“A race?” Yaz was thrown off.

“A what?” Graham interjected.

“Doctor, no.” Ryan burrowed his face in his hands. The woman can hardly drive the Tardis without crashing, let alone drive another vehicle.

Dante pondered over her proposition for a beat.

“A Mortori classical race, eh?” Dante raised an eyebrow.

“No Tardis, none of your men, just you-me-and the road.” She leveled up to the dark blue alien in the suit.

“Whaddaya say? Like old times.”

And there was the look, the look that Dante’s been waiting for. It was recklessness, it was dangerous, it was the Doctor.

“If I win, you’re gonna pull your men out of the streets, and apologize to Ryan.”

“And what about me?”  
The Doctor smiled, a sliver of fear struck Dante’s heart. This is what he’s been missing, a challenge.

“If you win, you get my Tardis.”

“What?!”

“No Doc!”

“Doctor you can’t be serious!”

“I’ll give you spin, drop off the key on the mat outside your door.” The Doctor extended her arm, unphased at the comments coming from behind her. Behind her bangs, she’s grinning.

Dante clasped his arm on hers.

“Sounds like you have yourself a race.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the doctor comes to realize what she has entered herself, and the gang into. although the team seems weary of the doctor's ability to win this thing, she has a few tricks up her sleeve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! thank you guys for waiting. I've been dealing with some personal issues lately, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting for so long! So I hope you enjoy! Just wait till the action starts happening >:) follow me on twitter: @leilaniryn and/or @lublubbalala !!! Cheers xx

“Why on EARTH did you agree to a bloody race?!”

“I was feeling cocky! Was I cocky? God, I can’t stand cocky people but I also can’t stand people picking on my mates!” The Doctor seemed torn between two emotions. She kept her back sharp, making sure Dante saw her walk away with confidence and vigor, even if her mind was in a million other places. Adrenaline still ran through her fingers, tingling the tips of her nails. She loves a good standoff, especially when she has an audience around.

“Honestly, we could’ve walked away, I’m fine with sparing a race.” Ryan rubbed the bridge of his nose, internally cringing; in his mind, a memory of primary school played. Sitting at the headmaster’s office, watching the headmaster’s face turn a bright pink and the tip of his nose drip with sweat, as Grace lays into him with extreme vigor and swearing about how her grandson should have just as an equal chance to play football as the other kids, regardless what disability he has. Both primary Ryan and today’s Ryan have one common emotion: embarrassment.

“And let that chum get away with those insults? Nah I think I’ll take the race.”

“Especially when you bid on the Tardis,” Yaz mumbled.

“Okay that part-I was a bit ahead of myself but I was in the moment!” the Doctor defended herself.

“Doctor, what are you going to do? You don’t have a car, and heavens know you can barely operate the Tardis.” Graham questioned as he looked ahead and spotted a figure in each alley, suddenly rethinking about Dante’s words.

“I _can_ operate the Tardis, thank you very much,”  the Doctor huffed, “Geez, it’s like you lot have no faith in me anymore.” She stopped just in the middle of the road, looked both ways for any suspects, and licks the air like a long lollipop that was sour.

“No we have faith in you Doc, it’s just a bit hard to concentrate without the big factor of you losing the Tardis being big and bold.”

“Don’t worry, I got a few tricks up my sleeves.” She says, pulling up her sleeves, giving that same grin.

Butterflies fly through Yaz’s stomach. She’s staring at her. Her arms, how flexed they are underneath the sleeves, but she suppresses her smile before she can notice herself blush when the Doctor gets cheeky.

“Like what?”

“I’ll tell you, first let’s go somewhere a bit quieter.” She jumps, and out of the air, pulls down a metal ladder, like a magic trick the gang gasps at the magician.

“How did you do that?!” “That was ace!” Yaz looks up at the ascending ladder, it seems to go on infinitely.

“Oh just wait till you see the view from up above, and yes Ryan, you can film this for your vlogs but just don’t tell people my secret!” The Doctor stated, being the first one to climb up the ladder. She always loved this bit, even if she can’t see their faces. She just knew it. How their eyes widened, the absences of breath, shaking hands on the stairway railings as they ascend higher and higher into the clouds.

“Doctor, all this time, _now_ you tell us that you can park your Tardis in the clouds?” Graham chuckled as he looked down on all of Chicago, his legs feeling lighter and less firm-more wobbly.

“How is this happening Doctor? It all seems like magic.” Yaz questioned.

“Collection of moisture in the atmosphere! Engineered it to compact together, simple maths. The Ethereals lived in clouds! Reserved type of people, got stuck up in them for a bit.” The team finally reached to the top, and there resting on (literally) the clouds, was the Tardis. The Doctor pulled out her key and jiggled it into the lock. The Doctor took a quick glance back at her team, noting their reactions to their feet touching the clouds within the air.

She watched Yaz kick her feet up, whisps some water molecules into the air, and smiled softly.

In another body she watched Clara do the same thing. Kicking the fog up, floating her arms like she was made above thin air, the twinkle in her eye of astonishment of the laws of physics being defined in front of her very self. It’s like butterflies in her stomach, whenever she shows something new to the gang, it’s like she is discovering something new herself. It’s the reactions from her companions and knowing that because of her, she brought wonder into their lives. The Doctor never gets tired of that bit.

“Just be careful at the edges, just because it’s a cloud doesn’t mean it’s infinite, and I’m talking about you Ryan!”

“Come on Doc! I ain’t even doing nothing.” Ryan stuffed his phone in his pocket, and slyly backed away from the edge.

* * *

 

“So, what exactly are the Mortori? You talked to those blokes like you personally knew them and they seem to know you.” Graham asked as he turned the stove knob to the right, heating the bottom of the kettle. They settled around the counter table in the table, a ceiling light hangs above the doctor’s head.

“Mortori are a psychic species, they have the ability to use the 30% of the brain where normal humans can’t. Their brains work like dolphins use echolocation. They send a brain wave back, and when they receive the waves back, it makes a sort-of sketch in their minds of the identity of the targeted person.”

“That’s why they knew about my dyspraxia.”

“Exactly why. They sent brain waves and received information about you Ryan. Your age, species, blood type, memories, medical conditions, your last bowel movement-”

“Okay so basically they’re nosy buggers who know too much about strangers.” Ryan shuddered, feeling violated that a stranger knows so much about him when he knew nothing about them.

“And are also Mr. Know-it-alls.” The Doctor mumbled, she busied herself in tinkering a headset. With difference pulses of her screwdriver, she is able to amplify the mic sound to the speaker; she just had to find the right frequency.

“Doctor! You need to pay attention; you got a race coming your way!” Graham snapped her out of her obliviousness towards the conversation, catching her full attention.

“You’re avoiding our question.” Yaz softly stated. The Doctor turned her head to her, and her stare softened; guilt washed on her face.

“How do you know those men?”

The Doctor put down the headset and screwdriver on the counter and folded her hands.

“They’re some old bullies from my past. A couple of times I would run into them. The Mire caves, the glass spas of Hera 4, space Tesco; and just when I think I stopped them, the buggers are always back.” She shook her head, not in disappointment, but exhaustion.

“So like the Daleks? The robots that you said are the most dangerous species in the universe?” Ryan questioned, a pitch higher than normal; and suddenly finding the air around him tight.

“Oh _days_ no. More like the annoying high school bully that keeps pushing you into lockers and you seem to be done with them but they always find somewhat you f-”

“O-okay so they’re just thugs?”

“Yeahh exactly! Just a nationwide mafia full of bullies, who all collectively hate me, and we have just entered into a race with them-ooh.” She sighed in realization.

“Oh? Oohh????”

“Yeah I just came to the realization of the whole situation.” She nodded in acceptance, noting that her heart rate has just gone up a beat faster.

“Oh good, I’m glad you came to that now.” Ryan huffed, picturing an image of a bulldozer trample over a small jalopy car with a penis spray-painted on the side. The bulldozer was the Mortori, and they were the jalopy.

“But don’t worry! I’ve got it all under control!”

“Okay, so what are we going to do?” Yaz focused with her hands on her hips.

“I was waiting for someone to say that,” She hopped off the stool and stretched her suspenders.

“We’re gonna build a car.”

* * *

 

Before the gang could break off and assemble a car like the three stooges, they had to know what type of race they’re playing in, and more importantly what type of opponent they are revving engines against.

“The Mortori are cut-throat racers. They’re clever, adaptable, _and_ sly. They know how to play the field, especially dirty. So the only way to fight dirt is with dirt.”

The Doctor unraveled a bird-eye view map of a figure 8 track, stick figures of herself and the gang drawn behind the starting line, smiling and eager for the race, while the Mortori, drawn in a draining blue pen, sitting sourly with distaste on their face next to them.

“But Doctor isn’t that one of your codes? Not to take an eye for an eye?”

“Ryan, rule one of the Doctor’s code: I always change them. Given a circumstance, of course.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, of course, she changes them, that so… Doctor-y of her. Yaz smirked back at his reaction, feeling an ounce of pride by knowing the rule before Ryan did. God, was Yaz a kiss ass... (but a kiss ass with a crush).

“What are we looking for?”

“Weak points. Easy advantages. You guys are gonna be my crew when I’m on the road.

“So like the little mates running around when the cars make the pit stop?”

“Yeah! I always wanted a tiny crew like that but for the Tardis… So I guess it would be you, gang!”

Suddenly the Doctor’s wrist makes a chime, as she pulls back her coat sleeve she reveals a pink Hello Kitty watch which she won (and modified) at a boardwalk game in Blackpool. Her nose comes to a scronch, finally realizing the time, she hopped down from the counter.

“Okay gang, part of the Mortori classical race is that the opponents need to meet a moon before the race begins on the battlefield, so I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Right before the Doctor started heading for to the console, Yaz jumped in before thinking.

“Wait! Do you want me to come with you? I mean, you’re gonna need company.”

“Me? Nah, I’m fine. Got my two good hands and a chatterbox for a mouth! I can run donuts around them just by talking, you lot stay here.”

“I don’t know Doc, I don’t want you taking my battles for me.” Ryan puts his phone in his pocket and hops off the stool, “I wanna come with you.”

The Doctor nods and looks at all of them for assurance, “Sounds good by my books!”

As they made way for the door, the Doctor turns back and takes a peculiar look at them, followed by her eyes rising up as she emerges herself in thought.

“What is it?”

“It’s just,” She debates on the words she wants to say “traditionally the meeting before the race- it’s meant to intimidate both opponents, kind of like a show off before the fight.”

Graham took a look between all four of them.

“So basically we have to look intimidating to them?”

“Yeah, I mean-I’ve been intimidating before! I mean in my past I was a real sight to behold, I’m sure I can bring back that mojo again.” The Doctor wrinkled her nose and stuck her hands in her pockets, swaying on the sole of her heels.

Yeah, Yaz can’t believe she was ever intimidating.

“I got an idea.” Yaz smiled and took the Doctor’s hands, who took Ryan’s and in return took Graham.

“We’re gonna put on our war paint.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneak Peak: team tardis in battle mode.


	3. The Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #skittleteam #teenagemutantturtles #yaztheteamcooridnator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets just forget that I haven't posted in a while due to depression and writers block. enjoy x

The race track at night was vast and filled with vegetation of years of abandonment, and the crickets chirped with the silent noises of the ghosts from the past. The hairs on Ryan’s neck stood, as he faces the darkness in front of him and grips tighter to the metal bat his father gave him when he was, well… it was before his mother died, and before a house of three became a house of two; when it was just Grace and him before Graham came into the picture.

Ryan can do silence. No matter how uncomfortable his leg would shake, Ryan was acquainted with it because, well, isn’t everyone? But what Ryan can’t do, is the silence of an empty race track, awaiting an opponent far more advanced, and too high above Ryan’s pay grade.

 “At least I’m digging the teenage mutant turtles look.” Graham shares a glance between the four of them: 

Graham dressed in a black bomber jacket with matching black polo and pants, his vision is covered by the tip of his red baseball cap. 

Ryan: black American football gear hanging from his shoulders which he found in the Tardis (someone by the name of O. Beckham gave it to the Doctor, and kept it ever since) with a blue bandana covering his mouth and his eyes smudged with Yaz’s eyeliner (his idea for his ‘menacing’ look was inspired by Lexa from the 100, which he marathoned with Yaz on a Saturday night). 

Yaz, wore her police training force shirt from her graduation, accompanied by army pants with combat boots and a yellow bandana wrapped around her thigh. 

And the Doctor, who dressed casually, with her hoodie up and a sharp eye that looked into the night, she didn’t need any alterations; she walked in danger.

“I don’t know, I think we look more like skittles than the ninja turtles?” Ryan shared

“Yeah, why do we have to have one color and the Doctor gets to dress in rainbow?” 

“We can all argue about our fashion choices later but right now we need to keep our eyes peeled, and our senses sharp for Dante, he’s not a fellow to be tricked by.” The Doctor ended the comments before she added:

“And thank Yaz for the idea. 10 points to Yaz.” 

Yaz’s cheeks turned red.

“Hey, don’t blame me for trying to make this team look badass!”

15 minutes go by, Graham sighs:

“So, I know we all look badass standing in an empty race track in the middle of the night and all, but when should we expect to see them? I’m getting tired of looking at nothing.”

“Trust me, you’ll know when they’re coming. They’re not too quiet about their entrance.” 

Just as Yaz was going to speak, a loud horn was heard throughout the stadium. It echoed, loud enough that Ryan wondered if all of Chicago would hear them. The horn continued to blow, and from a distance, they saw a blue fire, it’s true blue fire! Coming towards them. The closer they got, the clearer the image of what they were riding in began to come into focus: monster trucks. 

“Really? Monster trucks?” Yaz rolled her eyes.

“I knoooww and I always wanted one so bad!” The Doctor sighed like a child watching the other kids play with the toys she wanted: sad and a bit jealous.

Not one, or two, but four trucks spun donuts around the surrounding gang, blinding them with the dust and gravel creating a sandstorm. After their little ‘show’, they hopped out of their trucks, dressed like a metal punk gang you would find in the ‘Warriors’. 

“Really? That whole show just for you guys to step out the trunks like that?” The Doctor snorts, her posture is proud and confident. 

“You’re one to talk about entrances, Doctor.” Dante gave a hearty laugh, as he brought a golden torch up to his cigar, and light it in one swift. 

“Well, he did get you there, Doctor.” Yasmin chuckled, causing the Doctor to look at her in the offense, but quickly accept the truth. 

“May we get down to business now, Dante? I have three people who would rather be snuggled in their beds right now and not stand here in the circus please.” 

Just in a snap, a hoard of henchmen aid to him. One holding his cigar while another takes off his blazer, one setting up a table for two, while another one sets wine and bread on the table, and with each step Dante makes towards them, the henchmen follow in his moves. They are stuck to him like sucking fish attaches itself to a shark, to clean on the scraps and serve the king of the ocean. 

The Doctor took off her own jacket, revealing two empty gun holsters strapped to her shoulders, and threw the jacket aimlessly behind her, which Graham caught on que. Yaz was surprised at the holsters that hid underneath the Doctor’s coat, and wanted to ask her about it, but bit her tongue at the moment. Perhaps this was her intimidation scheme, but without the guns, Yaz wondered what message she tried to send. 

She seemed so out of character, and it was unsettling to Yaz to picture the guns that were held in those holsters.

Not that she cared, or even thought about what the Doctor had on underneath her clothes. She was just… curious. For lack of a better word. 

“What, we’re henchmen as well now?” Graham mumbles to Ryan, making him chuckle through his serious tone, knowing that the Doctor would even feel offended that they would consider themselves lower than her.

“Graham you know that’s not true and I’m trying to act boss here so shush for just a moment.” The Doctor quietly shouted to him, while putting a device in his hand, with her back facing Dante. 

“Whatever you do, don’t end the recording. We need to get as much information from them as we can.” The Doctor mumbled into Graham’s ear, pushing her hair behind her ear to reveal her earring, which disguised the small device that was connected to the device she just handed to him. She mouthed to him, staring intensely in his eyes:

“Wait for my signal.”

Graham nodded, but really wished he knew what she said instead of guessing. 

He felt the device in his hand. It was almost like a pen, silver, and metal. He tucked it into his sleeve, hiding from plain sight. 

“The Doctor wearing double holsters, yet have no weapons? Did you forget them at home?”

The Doctor remained calm, unnervingly calm. It’s as if the two are playing a game of chess, and each breath, each word said, each movement is the moving pieces being scattered around the board. 

“Didn’t forget them. Never had them. Never needed them.” 

_ A soldier so brave, she doesn’t need a gun. Who can keep the whole world safe.  _

The Doctor sits down, one leg straddling the side of the circular chair, the other leg as well, leaving her wide open, chest up and leaning back, playing her grounds fearless. It was a power move of the Doctors.

She was open like a target, and that’s what she wanted them all to believe. 

“Do you want some wine? It’s circa 2017. A refined palette such as yours must taste this year, Doctor.”

The Doctor scrunched her nose and shook her head.

“Nah, not really into drinking, since my last body. Although if you do have apple juice that would be wonderful.” 

“Sorry, we came here  _ only  _ with wine, perhaps we can pour a glass for you just in case you may change your mind.” Dante flicked his finger to one of his henchmen, who directly poured the bottle of wine into the Doctor’s cup.

“How about we talk about the race?”

“Oh, the race!” Dante boasted a hard laugh as if he had waited for the Doctor to bring it up.

“I almost forgot about it.”

“How can ya mate? This is the whole reason we’re out here. We didn’t dress like skittles for the fun of it!”

“Hey!” Yaz called out offended.

“Don’t worry Yaz, I love the whole look, seriously I do.” The Doctor turned back to Yaz and gave a supportive grin, which may be, lighted Yaz’s heart.

“Well if your assistant didn’t push into my men, you wouldn’t be standing here.”

The Doctor turned back to Dante while holding back the urge to roll her eyes.

“We’ve been over this before, if I didn’t, if you didn't, it's all the same mate. So what are you stalling for?”

She leaned into her chair, 

“Are you chicken?”

The threat of instigation caused a loud bang from Dante, slamming his hand onto the table, making the silverware, and team tardis jump to the loud noise.

“If you think me cowardly, then that is your biggest mistake. The regulations, please.” He drew a strong puff of his cigar, glaring at the doctor. 

“I’m made of mistakes, they make the most interesting stories.” The Doctor charmingly grinned and relaxed back into her seat.

The two disputes contained eye contact, as a regulator came between their table. 

He was nerdy-looking, glasses pushed up to the bridge of his nose, and lanky like a pool noodle, yet shared the same skin as the Mortori.

“If I could have one spokesperson from each party to meet at the table to talk through the rules.”

As a henchman drew to the side of Dante, the Doctor looked back at Graham and eyed him to step up to the table.

The Doctor could tell he was terrified, he was visibly shaken and can hear his heartbeat run from a mile away. But the Doctor had faith in him, she had faith in all of them.

“This is the challenge of the Mortori classical race, of the year 3052. Each party must meet before a moon before the race, then they have until the dusk of the next day to race. At dusk, you will meet here at the selected destination, and start your race. Do both parties understand?”

Each spokesperson nodded. 

“With following the rules of the Mortori traditions and culture, you will honor the race,”

The Doctor kept her eyes on Dante, not backing away from showing cowardice. 

“You will serve to rip each opponent’s vehicle with the mighty force of the engine oil, which spilled from Valhalla. You will burn your tires against the road with the fury of the game of death. For this race is not just any race, but Mortori!”

The men sounded a gutter cry to their name, tuning the small gang of travelers into the prey. They were in the lion’s den, and this is their land.

“For only the use of the motor engine on your vehicle will be the only technology you will serve, in the motori classical race. Use of modern technology and manipulators to the environment is shunned upon and is classified as a cheat. Are we clear?” 

Each party nodded. Dante plastered with a slight grin.

“Each party that has accompanied with them will be their team, they will services as the pit crew, engine specialist, and tire specialist. Any outsiders will not be permitted to be involved with the race, and will cast as sideliners.”

Dante’s men stood tall, 20 awaiting his call. 

The Doctor’s team consisted of a very flight instinctive Graham, a fight instinctive Ryan, and a very adrenaline-coarse Yaz, who mapped out every Mortori within 10 feet from the team. 

“Do each party have any previous remarks before the agreement is complete?”

“Actually, I would like to change the terms.” Dante slouched into his chair, resting his hands on his lap, out of sight from the Doctor.

“If you win, I’ll pull back my men out of the streets, make sure they won’t even hurt a single fly, but if  _ I  _ win,” he motioned his head to look behind the Doctor “I want her.”

Dante looked coldly straight into the eyes of Yasmin. 

The terms gave both Ryan and Graham audible response. 

“No way!”

“In your dreams.”

“Not in a million years. And even after that, never in my lifetime.” The Doctor says lowly, disliking where the terms were heading. 

“Why do you even want her? What does she have to do with you?” the Doctor questions, while putting her hands on her lap, mirroring Dante. 

And underneath the white cloth, the Doctor points her sonic directly in front of Dante’s gun which aimed at her abdomen, ready to disband his weapon.

“Let’s just say,” He stares into the eyes of Yasmin, as if he was a predator, assessing his prey. “Looks. Attractiveness. I have a dynasty to uphold, sons to be born, and if I win, she will be my queen, and bare my sons.”

“I will  _ not  _ bare anything of yours, mister blue man group.” Yasmin chuckled in disbelief. Her knuckles grew white as she pressed her fingertips deeply into her palms. 

“I like that spirit, that will to fight.” Dante chuckled as he took a drag of his soon-to-be-out cigar. “I wonder if you have the same feistiness in the bed when you’re chained to it.”

Like a strain of uncooked pasta, Ryan snapped and whacked a henchman that stood behind him with his bat, stripped him of his gun, and aimed it exactly at Dante, causing the scene to lose it’s order.

It was one push to send the Doctor to kick the small table at Dante, using that spare moment as a shield against the mortori aiming a pistol at Ryan, and locked his elbow from ever straightening, eternally frozen under the sonic of the Doctor. 

“Put down all your weapons!” Yaz yelled and picked up her baton from her side pocket and held the thug frozen, bringing all sudden movements of the scene to a halt. 

“We need to all take a chill pill right now. Took one with Beethoven once and surprisingly worked.” Sweat visibly shined on the Doctor’s forehead as she aimed her sonic at the frozen Mortori. 

“Does the rival party insinuate violence on the terms?!” the regulator raised his voice amongst the chaos that was oh-so seemingly close to breaking into destruction. 

The Doctor stared at Ryan, disappointment, and fear filled her eyes. 

Ryan knew what she was saying, without saying any words. The way she gulped, her lips in a firm line, and to top it off, her eyes. Her eyes never told a lie, at least not to him. 

“ _ Does the rival party insinuate violence on the terms?”  _ The regulator repeated.

“No. We do not.” She looked back at the regulator, and then to Ryan. 

“And we never will. Now Ryan, please. Drop the gun.”

“I also do like that boy’s rage as well, fit for a fine Mortori. Maybe if the girl doesn’t work, he’ll make a fine replacement.”

“Nobody is replacing nobody, and no one is shooting at no one!” the Doctor raised her voice. 

She rarely did, which was an indicator to the team that she wasn’t fucking around anymore.

“Now, Dante I promised you my TARDIS, and let’s leave it at that, okay?”

“Oh, but Doctor-”

“Deal!” Yaz exclaimed before her brain could catch up with her mouth. 

Each one of them looked to the girl in the police force shirt. Dante grinned, the regulator surprised, the Doctor wide-eyed, Ryan and Graham speechless. 

“If you win, I will go with you, but on one condition.”

“Name it, Yasmin Khan.” 

Yaz felt a shiver run down her spine, as Dante referred to her full name with only his piercing iced eyes looking into each one of her cells. 

“You let the Doctor and the boys go. You let the Doctor keep the TARDIS, and as long as I am by your side, you will not cross paths with the Doctor again.” 

“Yasmin, no.” She heard the Doctor’s small plead after her bargain. If Yaz were to turn her gaze away from Dante and to the Doctor, she may never find the courage to leave her side. 

But she was always the one. Always the one to make the sacrifice play, even if the Doctor discouraged it. 

“Deal.” 

“Wait, Dante no. Stop you don’t-”

“The terms are met!” the Regulator announced, closing his scribe, and walking to the side of the Mortori. 

The Mortori dropped their weapons and rushed to clean the fallen table. Dante grinned at the Doctor, whose face was darker than the whole team has ever seen.

The Doctor laid down her sonic, freeing the arm of the aimed Mortori, as did Ryan and the team. 

Finally, the tension faded like the harsh waves of the ocean that ceased to crash. 

“If I could have the two racers meet in the middle, and shake to the agreement, the race will begin.” 

Dante flicked his cigar out of his hand and landed on a small beetle. As he walked to the Doctor, his foot nonchalantly pressed on the beetle, gushing blood from the insect body.

He extended his hand, the Doctor starred in fury at him, then took his grasp, and firmly shook it.

“And if you have any ideas of taking advantage of any of my mates, and Yasmin, if the thought of cheating your way out of this even crosses your mind, I promise you there will be consequences that you will pay.” The Doctor’s eyes burned into Dante’s. 

Finally, the oncoming storm has awakened. 

“Let the best alien win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you guys think???? I'm really happy that I finally finished this chapter, and continuing this story. Sorry it took so long, but the most important part is that it's here. leave a comment on what you think, leave a kudos if you enjoyed, leave a kudos if you didn't enjoy, any suggestions would be welcomed. add it to your bookmarks to be updated, and follow me on twitter @leilaniryn for updates and my stan twitter acc! thaaankssss :))))))

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos and comment if you enjoyed! I always like exploring the idea of the daredevil side of thirteen, it's fun to write for!


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